A Hero Will Come

An elite, young knight was unsettled seeing

the most curious thing: a mounted fighter

addressed his lance and shield, unhorsed

ten stout knights in joust after joust,

and dropped his arms, bowing in abject defeat.

He let the beaten knights pull him to the ground.

 

They bound his wrists and tied him under his horse,

leading him in foul disgrace through the town.

The young knight witnessed this in disbelief.

It made no sense. How could a man so stalwart

give in to such debasement and abuse?

He discovered the man had lost himself for love.

 

The man, Pelleas, had closed his heart like a fist

around dreams of his lady, Arcade. He couldn’t let go.

She was a doña of the castle, fair and proud,

who stalked the parapets, a fly-away blonde

with red ribbon scarves, looking down.

Hard for anyone to miss, except Pelleas.

 

The whole point of his repeated humiliation

was to see her. The knights he vanquished

would lead him to the castle courtyard roped to his horse,

where Arcade would stoop and glare from the walls

and order a fresh outrage for next week:

Tie him to the tail and drag his face in the dirt.

 

Pelleas was then booted out the gate.

The doña wanted the loser gone forever.

Or so she said. But discerning folks believed

Arcade’s infatuation with power over Pelleas

was parallel to his obsession for her.

Together, they tied an unholy knot.

 

The fine, young knight was taken with pity

over this endless degradation and offered

to help the man he saw that Pelleas was.

He said he would trade horses and armor

with the older man and ride to Arcade’s castle

to present himself as one who killed Pelleas.

 

The thinking was that her relief at feeling

her tormenter gone and the follow-up jolt

of losing the heart that most yearned for her

would stir up an alchemy of love in her heart

for Pelleas, the man she had grown to abhor.

Magic in the logic? Yes. But it was a start.

 

The young knight had pledged his loyalty to Pelleas,

but when he saw Arcade, something broke.

The doña filled his eyes in a golden moment,

his constitution morphing to something else.

Everything was new. He could have anything.

And the lady rather fancied her new tool.

 

While Pelleas awaited word from his faithful friend

of the lady’s change of heart, the young knight

followed the lady to a pavilion outside the castle,

where a bed was appointed just for them.

They stayed for days weaving a tapestry of desire.

Meanwhile, Pelleas had an inkling something wasn’t right.

 

On the third day, before dawn,

he rode to the castle and saw the grand pavilion.

He entered and watched the lovers twining together

in sleep. They should be dead, he thought,

but murdering them, defenseless like that, was wrong.

He left and went back twice to kill them but couldn’t.

 

The second time, he laid his naked sword

across their throats. He rushed out and rode away.

With no will to live, Pelleas went off

to his pavilion and told his knights the story.

He said he would shed his armor and arms

and go to bed, where he belonged, until death.

 

When Arcade and the young knight awoke

with a steel blade across their necks, they knew

whose sword it was. The knight was seized with shame

and the doña with fury at the knight’s double betrayal.

He’d broken faith with Pelleas and lied to her

about killing him. The knight slunk away to the forest.

 

Around Pelleas, his men openly grieved

their master’s plight. One of them, crying in a bosk,

was approached by the lady of the lake, Nimue,

who was passing there. She asked the reason.

On hearing about the master’s agony, she said,

Bring me to him. He shall not die for love.

 

The knight led Nimue to the tent and the dying bed,

where the pallid man lay still, not waking or sleeping,

in a darkness where everything but life is gone.

She saw a man who would do anything for love

whose love was a disconnection, a bleeding vessel.

An enchantress, Nimue stepped into the breach.

 

She cast a spell on Pelleas to sleep and ordered

no one to wake him. She rode to Arcade’s castle

and brought the doña back to the dying man.

The lady’s power overtook Arcade,

who bent down to Pelleas and thought she’d burst

with yearning for him, an astonishing change of heart.

 

It was a turn of poetic justice; Arcade

had so casually held herself above

the man and shown no mercy for his weakness.

He was valiantly weak, giving her more

reason for mercy. Nimue was hard on her

for that, fanning a counter spell on Pelleas.

 

When he awoke, he saw only the grotesque

that Arcade was, her fly-away coiffure

and frivolous fashion, accented by the red tails

of a scarf, affectations of status and honor.

For Pelleas, her confections no longer hid

the bitterness of her heart. Arcade fled in defeat.

 

The field was clear. Nimue called Pelleas

to ride with her out of that country. As they went,

Pelleas marveled at his change of heart and soul.

Things were so bleak and now so verdant.

He thanked God for it all. The lady was cool

in her compassion. You may thank me, she said.

 

Copyright © 2025 by Sam S. Dodd